Chapter 6

Rose No. 6: I like it.

After the banquet ended, Aunt Chu solemnly brought them into the reception room and called Ye Yian over.

“Come here.”

This was probably where the farce would end.

Fu Chaoying sat with her aunt on one side and her cousin on the other. Thanks to Aunt Chu’s repeated reassurance, she stayed silent the whole time.

She lowered her eyes and calmly thought through the situation.

Ye Jiayuan had already handled the mediation on both sides; all she needed to do now was quietly play the victim. She didn’t even have to lift her head.

That suited her just fine. She didn’t want to see Ye Yian’s disgusting face either.

“Xiaoying.”

At the low voice, Fu Chaoying slowly raised her eyes and saw Ye Jiayuan standing before her, neither too close nor too far away—a distance that was just right, detached enough.

“Aying.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Fu Chaoying caught sight of Ye Yian walking into the room.

The two sisters stood side by side, yet they couldn’t have looked more different: one steady and composed, the other flustered and at a loss.

“Sorry. We didn’t raise Ye Yian well enough.” Ye Jiayuan’s tone was calm, but there was a faint chill beneath it. As she spoke, she turned slightly to glance at Ye Yian beside her, her gaze deep.

The moment she finished speaking, Ye Yian suddenly bent at the waist and bowed deeply to Fu Chaoying.

“Aying, I’m truly sorry.”

Fu Chaoying gave no response. She only looked at the ring on the ring finger of Ye Yian’s left hand.

The token that had once stood for love now looked especially mocking.

Ye Yian said something else, but Fu Chaoying didn’t listen closely. She simply stared at that ring, and in the end said hoarsely, “Please take off the ring.”

“Exactly. You’ve already broken up, so why are you still wearing it?” Aunt Chu couldn’t help cutting in, clearly displeased. “Do you want me to take it off for you?”

Ye Yian clearly hadn’t expected that. She could only grit her teeth and, completely at a loss, remove the ring.

Everything after that went as it should.

Fu Chaoying’s peripheral vision swept over Ye Jiayuan’s profile. There was no ripple in those eyes; she seemed to see through everything, yet something complicated still lingered there.

Her voice was steady, her tone gentle, as if she were discussing a business deal.

But the warmth from that night was clearly scorching.

When Ye Yian started saying some irrelevant things, Fu Chaoying leaned softly into her aunt’s embrace and murmured, “I’m sleepy.”

Aunt Chu understood at once and quickly urged everyone to go rest. Before leaving, she didn’t forget to remind them, “If Xiaoying ever needs anything in the future, just go find our Jiayuan. Don’t be polite with us.”

Fu Chaoying looked up and met Ye Jiayuan’s eyes. The other woman gave a slight nod, the corner of her lips lifting in an almost imperceptible curve.

Chu Yiyun arranged for Ye Jiayuan to take Fu Chaoying home.

Having the head of the family personally see her off was both a small apology and an expression of respect.

Ye Jiayuan was courteous and proper; only after Fu Chaoying settled in did she walk around to the other side and get into the car.

Once the door closed, the warm air rushed up, sealing out the chill outside.

Under the dim light, Fu Chaoying softly said to her, “Thank you.”

Ye Jiayuan turned her head, her gaze landing on Fu Chaoying’s face.

They faced each other in the darkness; faintly, they could even hear each other’s breathing.

All at once, Fu Chaoying’s mind flashed back to that drunken night, when their breaths mingled and their lips and teeth met.

“Thank me for taking you home, or for agreeing to be your consultant?” Ye Jiayuan asked. Her voice was still calm, but there was a subtle ease in it.

The car interior had no lights on. Through the black-tinted window, Fu Chaoying couldn’t make out her expression; she could only judge her mood by her voice.

It was completely different from earlier in the reception room.

Fu Chaoying withdrew her gaze, steadied her breathing, and replied, “Both.”

After saying that, she glanced at her from the corner of her eye, only to see that Ye Jiayuan hadn’t looked away. Was she looking at her?

Fu Chaoying lightly squeezed her hands, then looked back and found that at some point, Ye Jiayuan had already closed her eyes.

There was no music in the car. It was so quiet that only their breathing remained.

By the faint light, Fu Chaoying traced her profile in her mind: the high bridge of her nose, the perfect line of her lips, and the faintly visible collarbone; all of it embodied restrained, ascetic beauty.

“I’m going to Singapore on a business trip tomorrow,” Ye Jiayuan said suddenly.

Fu Chaoying quickly turned to look at her, only to realize she still hadn’t opened her eyes.

“Oh.” Fu Chaoying responded.

“So...” Ye Jiayuan slowly opened her eyes and looked straight at her.

Fu Chaoying froze for a moment, then caught on and continued, “Then... should Sister Jiayuan come to my place to pick up the painting while you’re at it?”

They looked at each other. Ye Jiayuan gave a slight nod. “Mm.”

*

Under the warm yellow lights, Fu Chaoying and Ye Jiayuan entered the house together.

Aunt Wu heard the movement and came out beaming, her face lit with smiles. “Oh my, Miss Jiayuan is here! Would you like something to drink? I can brew some flower tea.”

Ye Jiayuan nodded in acknowledgment.

Fu Chaoying was about to lead Ye Jiayuan upstairs when she saw her stop in front of an ink-wash painting.

It was one of Fu Chaoying’s grandmother Fu Li’s representative works, Beauty and the Empire; graceful yet grand, with profound artistic conception.

Ye Jiayuan stood in front of the painting, and Fu Chaoying paused too, looking at it with her. Then she heard Ye Jiayuan suddenly ask, “Did you copy this?”

All the non-painter friends who had come here had assumed it was Fu Li’s original, after all this had been Fu Li’s former residence.

Only Ye Jiayuan recognized it as a reproduction.

Fu Chaoying was slightly startled, though her face showed nothing. “How could you tell?”

Ye Jiayuan raised her hand and pointed to the misty section of the painting. “This uses pine soot ink.”

Her grandmother preferred lacquer soot ink; Fu Chaoying preferred pine soot ink. Few outsiders could tell the difference.

Fu Chaoying admired her inwardly, though her expression didn’t change. “As expected, Sister Jiayuan really knows a lot.”

Ye Jiayuan tilted her head to look at her and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head, the corners of her eyes curving.

Fu Chaoying led Ye Jiayuan upstairs to the studio door.

But Ye Jiayuan stopped at the doorway and didn’t move. “I’ll wait here.”

Fu Chaoying paused, then reached out and gently took her wrist.

The skin beneath her palm was warm and smooth like jade, unlike her usual cool, unsmiling composure. Without thinking, Fu Chaoying tightened her grip slightly.

Ye Jiayuan let herself be led along. Then she lowered her eyes and looked at where their skin touched.

“Look at this one.” Fu Chaoying brought her to stand before a painting.

Ye Jiayuan looked up in a daze. The brushwork in the painting was gentle yet strong, the ink tones richly layered, the whole piece ethereal and far-reaching.

It could be called a fine work in the Southern style.

“Is it good?” Fu Chaoying turned her head to look at her.

Ye Jiayuan studied it for a moment, then nodded. “Are you giving it to me?”

“No.” Fu Chaoying shook her head, her smile light.

“I just wanted to show you the painting my grandmother liked best.”

It had been painted one week before her grandmother’s death; to this day, Fu Chaoying still didn’t know whether her words that it was “the best” and “her favorite” had been sincere, or only meant to comfort her.

Her grandmother had always been good at comforting her.

“It’s painted very well,” Ye Jiayuan added. “And Fu Lao had good taste too.”

Fu Chaoying’s heart stirred. A faint smile rose at the corners of her lips.

Her eyes were still a little red. Smiling like this made her look even more fragile.

Ye Jiayuan quietly withdrew her gaze and swept it over the walls full of paintings, then asked, “What painting are you giving me?”

Fu Chaoying’s lips curved slightly; she pointed gently. “This one.”

Ye Jiayuan followed her gaze and paused a little.

It was an ink painting that was worlds apart from the traditional Southern style; the lines were natural and unrestrained, with an intent that seemed to run across open wilderness.

There wasn’t much technique in it, but it won on freedom and boldness.

Ye Jiayuan looked deeply at the painting, then deeply at her.

Fu Chaoying met her gaze directly and blinked softly. “Do you like it?”

After a moment, Ye Jiayuan said, “It doesn’t look like Southern-style painting.”

Of course it didn’t.

Fu Chaoying hummed softly.

Ye Jiayuan’s eyes brushed over the corners of her flattened lips, and a trace of amusement flashed through them. “If I like it, you’ll give it to me?”

Fu Chaoying nodded lightly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Of course.”

“So, do you like it?”

This should have been where adults stopped at the edge of things, but Fu Chaoying suddenly wanted to ask all the way to the end.

Ye Jiayuan helplessly turned her head away and focused on the painting.

The room fell silent. Fu Chaoying was just about to turn around to get the ladder when she suddenly heard her say, “I like it.”

Fu Chaoying snapped her head back at once and happened to meet her calm eyes.

Ye Jiayuan looked at her and repeated, “I like it.”

The emotion in her eyes was too complex; Fu Chaoying could only catch a sliver of tenderness.

“Then I’ll take it down now.” Fu Chaoying turned to find the ladder. Ye Jiayuan helped her bring it over, then held it steady with a firm grip.

Fu Chaoying had only climbed four steps when, seized by some ghostly impulse, she turned back to look at her.

At that moment, Ye Jiayuan’s gaze was so steady it looked as if she were helping her rise to the clouds.

Fu Chaoying smiled, took down the painting, carefully rolled it up, and finally placed it into a rosewood box.

“There’s another one.” Fu Chaoying pointed at the marble counter. “I just finished it.”

Ye Jiayuan looked over. “The oil painting from your Moments?”

There it was again: Moments.

Ye Jiayuan stood before the counter, and Fu Chaoying’s gaze landed on her graceful back as she asked casually, “Sister Jiayuan, you saw it too?”

“Mm.”

The answer was obvious. Fu Chaoying stood beside her while packing it up and joked, “Then remember to like it next time you see it.”

“I usually don’t look at Moments,” Ye Jiayuan said with a slight shake of her head.

“It’s fine,” Fu Chaoying said with a shrug. “Anyway, Sister Jiayuan has already seen it once.”

Ye Jiayuan pressed her lips together, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end only said, “I’m rarely free.”

Fu Chaoying smiled faintly and let it go. “It’s okay.”

At parting, Fu Chaoying stood at the gate of the courtyard and watched Ye Jiayuan leave.

Only after the car lights disappeared around the corner did she turn and go back inside.

In the spirit of not wasting food, Fu Chaoying went home and ate the children’s meal Aunt Wu had reheated for her.

She had barely taken two bites when she received a message from Ye Jiayuan——

[When I’m back from my business trip, I should have time to have dinner with you.]

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16 bags will be randomly sent out [kiss]